A Girl and a Ghost
by Gabriel Gatsby
Summary: Making friends can be tough for a first year.


"Not _quite, _Miss Abbott," came the voice of Professor Snape from directly behind her, and Hannah jumped violently, causing her to accidentally tip too much powdered root of Asphodel into her cauldron. She watched in horror as it rapidly dissolved, and her previously pale-pink potion began to shift between a sickly array of colours: first a snot-green, then a violent shade of purple, followed by electric pink. It finally seemed to settle on a deep midnight blue — before exploding, _all _over her.

She stared in shock at her now-empty cauldron, hardly daring to turn around and see the look on Professor Snape's face. Glancing up at her fellow students, who had all stopped what they were doing to seek out the source of the explosion, she found, both to her dismay and relief, that they had not been caught in the blast. A protective charm shimmered between herself and the rest of the students; only she had been left unprotected.

All eyes were on her, and she felt her cheeks burn as she realised the potion had absolutely covered her head-to-foot in what was now a rapidly solidifying, sticky, blue goo. It was in her hair, all over her robes, and oozing into her shoes. She jumped for a second time as Professor Snape spoke again, his voice hard and cold.

"_Fifty _points from Hufflepuff, Miss Abbott, for your blatant attempt to deface my laboratory." Hannah felt herself pale at the groans from her fellow Hufflepuffs, and stared down at her potion-splattered shoes, wishing she could melt into the ground. "And I expect this _mess,_" he gestured at the ruined potion that was sprayed across all of her books and utensils, "to be cleaned up by the end of the class."

Hannah didn't say anything as the professor swept away from her, black robes billowing out behind him. Mortification glued her to the spot, and it was only when he snapped at everyone to get back to work that she was jolted into action. Picking up her wand with trembling fingers, she directed it at the bench and began attempting to clean off the now-crusty potion.

"Sc-c-corgif—" she tried, but her wand shook, and she couldn't get the incantation past the lump in her throat. Swallowing hard, she tried to ignore the sneers and whispers from her classmates and focused on visualising the spell in her mind. Clutching her wand a bit tighter, she tried again.

"Scourgify!" she managed, and sighed with relief when the bench came clean. She was just about to direct her wand at her own robes, too, when Professor Snape's voice cut over the class once more.

"That will do, Miss Abbott. I'll not risk having you blow anything else up today. Please refrain from doing _anything_ until you have bodily left my lab."

Hannah stared at the professor in disbelief, but he had already turned his attention away from her. She had no choice but to stand there, still covered in the blue mess, until the class finished.

She stared down at her spoiled shoes, avoiding the disappointed looks of her housemates, and blinked away the prickling in her eyes. She should have known this would happen to her. She had _so _been looking forward to coming to Hogwarts. She had been sure that here, at least, she would be able to make some friends, that she would be able to find _something _she was good at. She had thought that being part of a house would be fun, but so far she had lost them so many points that the other Hufflepuff girls wouldn't even talk to her. She hated that she could never get anything right. Why did she have to be such a klutz?

To her relief, Professor Snape soon announced the end of the session, and she managed to sniff back her tears by busying herself with packing away. She hurried to stuff her books back in her bag, but realised, as she came to her cauldron, that she could neither clean nor shrink it without going against Professor Snape's orders. She was forced to lug it awkwardly from the class as it was.

It was impossible to ignore the tutting of the other Hufflepuffs as they passed her on the way out or the way no one would come near her — nobody was willing to risk getting the potion on their own robes — and so she left the lab with a metre radius of space in all directions. By the time she'd managed to make it out into the corridor she was fighting to swallow the growing lump in her throat again, desperate to get away from the whispers and the sneers.

She tried to make her way towards the Hufflepuff common room quickly, despite her awkward load, but paused in surprise as she heard someone call her name from back the way she'd come. Dropping the heavy cauldron to the floor, she looked around to find Susan Bones jogging to catch up with her.

"Hey," Susan said, as she reached her, and Hannah felt hope bloom in her stomach before she could stop it.

"Hi," she replied, smiling, but Susan only glanced back towards her friends who were waiting a little further down the corridor, before turning back to her.

"Look, Hannah," she began, and Hannah felt her hope turn sour at the tone of her voice. "I don't know how you do it, but my advice? Just _stop _whatever it is you're doing. I know you don't mean to, but that's 160 points already this week, and it's only _Tuesday. _We'll never win the house cup if you keep this up. Just—" she sighed, shaking her head "—try, you know?" Hannah felt tears prick her eyes again and nodded her head in understanding, staring down at her shoes. She knew she was letting her house down. She really didn't mean to. Susan didn't wait for her to say anything, though, only sighing once more before turning and running off to meet up with her friends.

Hannah remained where she was, her eyes and cheeks burning, until all of the other students had made their way from the corridor and she was left alone. Her skin was beginning to itch where the potion had splashed her, and her hands trembled as she clutched her books to her chest. After a moment, she heaved a shaky sigh, but, squeezing her eyes shut, she found that she couldn't hold it in a moment longer. Sinking to her knees, she dropped everything she was holding and sobbed uncontrollably into her hands. Of course Susan didn't want to be friends. Nobody wanted to be her friend. She was too clumsy. Too much of a klutz. Even _she_ probably wouldn't want to be her friend.

As she sat there, shoulders shaking, surrounded by her books and bags and covered in potion, she suddenly felt a cool chill snake up her spine. The odd sensation caused her to stop her sobbing, as the icy tendrils made her to shiver involuntarily. She was in the dungeons, so there were no natural drafts down here. Wiping her eyes on her sleeves, she glanced up, and nearly jumped in surprise.

Standing before her, transparent and slightly wispy, was a ghost. She stared up at him with puffy eyes, temporarily distracted from her crying, and he smiled kindly down at her. He was quite a short man, with an ample stomach and long monk's robes. She thought she'd heard someone say there were ghosts at Hogwarts, but she'd never seen one before. When he spoke, his voice was soft and gentle, if slightly ethereal in quality.

"Hello, child," he said, bowing closer to her, and she felt the same chilly shiver run over her skin. She'd never spoken to a ghost before, or seen one so close up, but he had a kind smile and so she only sniffed once more before replying.

"H-hello," she croaked, her throat a little sore from crying. At the sound of her own voice, she realised in a rush that she must look and sound very silly, sitting here in the middle of a corridor crying to herself like a baby. She stared down at her lap in embarrassment, letting her hair fall forward to hide her face as she felt her cheeks heat up again. Was it stupid to be embarrassed in front of a ghost? He was dead, after all. She was distracted from contemplating that thought any further though, as the ghost spoke again.

"Now, now. What is a lovely girl like you doing sitting here on her own?" he asked, and Hannah felt fresh tears well in her eyes despite his caring tone. Did he think she'd be sitting on her own if she had anyone else to sit with? Nobody even wanted to come near her, now. She heaved another shaky sigh, and tried to will the tears away.

"Was it Professor Snape?" he asked, a note of understanding in his voice, and Hannah looked up in surprise. How had he guessed? He smiled down at her knowingly.

"He can be a bit bossy, that one, can't he?" Hannah's eyes opened slightly wider in disbelief, and she glanced around to check no one else was nearby to hear the ghost openly disrespecting a Hogwarts professor. The corridor was still empty though, and the ghost chuckled softly at her reaction.

"Oh, don't you worry about me, child. I'm a ghost! I can say what I like. Now, tell me, would you like to hear a story?"

Hannah looked back at him uncertainly, before slowly nodding her head.

"Okay then. So, not very long ago – for a ghost, at least – there was a young boy who attended this very school. He was a first year, just like yourself, and one day in a Potions class that I was sitting in on, he accidentally tipped too many haliwinkles into his pot. It was such a disaster! The thing exploded everywhere, and the poor boy was covered head-to-foot in the stuff," he chuckled as he spoke, and Hannah found herself smiling along. When he put it like that, it didn't sound so terrible after all.

"What happened to him?" she asked.

"Well, the professor sent him directly from the room! Wouldn't even have him in his class. But," he continued, "the boy didn't let that discourage him. He knew that if he just kept trying, he would get it right eventually. So he did. Some years later, when he was all grown up, he became a very accomplished potions master. And then," he said, with a twinkle in his eye, "he became a Potions professor himself."

Hannah's eyes opened wide with realisation.

"It was Professor Snape, wasn't it?" she asked, excitedly, her own woes temporarily forgotten.

"It was," the ghost said, smiling. "So, don't you worry about anything he or anyone else says. If you believe in yourself, that's what counts."

Hannah smiled up at the ghost, and, feeling a little lighter, she began collecting up her things from the floor before finally picking herself back up. With a sigh, she regarded her robes, but then, remembering the story, rummaged in her bag for her wand. Pulling it out, she bit her lip in concentration and uttered the cleansing spell as clearly as she could. Pride welled in her stomach as she watched the solid potion peel away from her clothes, leaving them clean on her first try.

Beaming up at the ghost, she clutched her wand more confidently.

"Thank you so much!" she exclaimed, but the ghost only chuckled.

"Don't thank me, child. You did it all by yourself," he said, then his face pulled together in a slight frown as he seemingly remembered something. "Oh! My, where are my manners? I haven't even introduced myself have I?"

Hannah smiled at him, and offered her hand, gladness making her bolder.

"My name's Hannah," she grinned.

"Well, Hannah, most people call me The Fat Friar, but," he added with a wink, "my friends call me Will. I do hope we'll be good friends?"

And Hannah thought right then that a better friend couldn't exist in the world.

"Definitely!" she declared and laughed as he put his hand in hers and his ghostly form tickled as it passed through her palm.

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_Written for: 'The Quiddich League Fanfiction Competition'. Prompts: (word) force, (word) holding, Hufflepuff x Hufflepuff friendship_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

_CC cover image (entitled 'July 27, 2010') courtesy of EmmyMik on Flickr._

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**A/N:** Thanks for reading! This was a real challenge for me as I didn't know many characters from Hufflepuff very well, so I chose to pick ones we don't know much about and make them up. I hope they were believable :) Let me know what you thought. GG x


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